Chapter 6
Six
A fter a sleepless night, well, two sleepless nights since she had agreed to consider becoming Jon’s mistress, Steph woke feeling more confused and conflicted than ever.
Why was she even considering this? Surely she was better than that, than being the ‘bit on the side’.
Rubbing the steam from the bathroom mirror she stared at her reflection. “Or maybe you’re not better than that.”
When Jon had described it, he’d made it sound like some kind of professional agreement. Could this be the perfect solution to her disastrous dating history? A safe option? To not enter the unpredictable and often choppy waters of dating, but instead to have the parameters of the relationship laid down from day one, for each party to understand just what they were getting and what was expected? Who was making this into a business deal now?
She’d told Jon she’d think about it and she had. She’d thought of nothing else, flitting between dogged determination not to succumb to that role and then swinging to the other extreme and readily agreeing to it.
After dinner on Monday, they’d kissed and messed around a little and it had felt amazing, leaving her in no doubt that sex with him would be out of this world, but what would the true cost of a relationship be?
“Why me?” she asked her reflection. “Slutty Steph,” she replied, wondering if that was all he had ever seen even after his shift in demeanour and treatment of her. “No. I will not be the shag piece!” she said with a renewed determination.
She had been cheated on by Simon and it felt shit so she wouldn’t do that to another woman. Plus, she’d seen cheating within her own family. Now she just needed to stick to that decision when faced with the delicious Mr Brooker himself.
She arrived at the reception of Brooker Incorporated at just after eight o’clock and it felt rather odd to be there. She knew it would be easier to rebuke Jon’s advances if she was safely tucked away in her own office rather than one of his.
“Stephanie Pryor from Baker, Ross and Riley.” She introduced herself to the receptionist on duty who smiled politely, then punched her name into the computer before signalling for security to come across. She handed Steph a visitors pass and a thick pile of papers in a plastic file.
“A little light reading.” The security man smiled as Steph looked down at the policies, ethos and mission statements in the file.
She smiled back at him. “A little bedtime reading always helps me nod off.”
“Ah, Miss Pryor, you’re early,” said the voice behind her that she recognised immediately.
“Good morning, Tina, Ted,” he said to the receptionist who was beaming at him like a lighthouse and the smiley security man.
“Morning, Mr Brooker,” they said in stereo.
“I was just taking Miss Pryor up to H.R.” Ted offered a smile in Steph’s direction.
“No need.” Jon waved Ted’s suggestion off. “I will take Miss Pryor up.” He reached for her arm and steered her towards the lift.
With the door closing, Jon looked across at her in the opposite corner of the lift and smiled. It appeared to stop at every floor to let people out and by the time the doors closed at the nineteenth floor they were alone.
“Will you have tea or coffee with me?” he suddenly asked, sounding like the most reasonable man in the world, not like a married man looking to make her his mistress.
“Tea, please.” She thought what an odd conversation to be having when she was fairly certain that he desperately wanted to jump on her. Her earlier determination to rebuke his advances and suggestions was already beginning to wane and that was after just a few seconds of seeing his handsome face and inhaling his glorious scent. At that second she knew if he took just one step closer she wouldn’t fight him off. So much for not becoming his shag piece.
“How are you? I missed you yesterday,” he told her flatly, still holding his position.
“Fine, thank you, and I missed you too after Monday night.” She could have kicked herself for being so open about having missed him. Turning down his offer was going to be so much harder if she kept opening herself up to him and being so honest about how she felt. Quickly, she attempted to rein things in a little. “And you? How are you?”
“Yes, fine too,” he replied and then laughed. “God, this is more awkward than I thought it would be and we haven’t even had sex yet.”
She blushed, laughing back. “Yet?” So much for reining it in.
“I believe I told you that I always get what I want and I want you, Stephanie.” The lift doors opened at his floor and he gestured for her to leave first. Clearly, he wasn’t going to make this easy for her. “Your arse is mighty fine, I can see why Baker likes to walk behind you,” he said seriously.
“Do I have a copy of your sexual harassment policy here?” Holding the wallet aloft, she laughed.
“Probably, but if there’s anything not in there that you’d like me to do, feel free to say.” He grinned as he put his hand on her back and gently pushed her towards a double set of mahogany doors.
He opened one door to reveal a private reception room with plush leather sofas and a desk with the name plate ‘Andrea Stewart’. Behind the desk was another door with the name plate, ‘Jonathan Brooker CEO’ attached.
“Good morning, Mr Brooker, Miss Pryor,” came Andrea’s voice from the still open doorway. “Your mail is on your desk and so is your coffee. Can I get you anything, Miss Pryor?”
“Tea for Miss Pryor, please, Andrea, and no calls until nine, but let H.R. know that Miss Pryor is here and will be down there for eight fifty-five, thank you.” His words were concise and to the point as he entered his office.
His office was much like his home, light, glass and chrome with a minimalistic feel to it. There was a large leather sofa like the ones in reception at one end of the room, a couple of closed doors and a huge bookcase full of legal and business manuals. He sat back in his leather chair behind his desk that had a wall of glass behind him looking out across the city.
“Please sit.” He pointed towards the leather seat opposite his own. Once she’d taken her seat he turned serious to ask, “Why were you talking about going to bed with Ted downstairs?”
She couldn’t decide if he was angry or joking.
“I wasn’t, I just said about bedtime reading.” She laughed and then realised that he wasn’t laughing back.
“It doesn’t amuse me that you talk about yourself in bed with strange men.”
His ridiculously serious tone as well as his hypocritical words only served to irritate her. Surely what he was offering her was the same as what he was accusing her of. “Unless they’re you.” Unbelievably, even to herself, when she saw his hard expression soften and be replaced with one of confusion her own tone mellowed, almost against her own will. “Sorry.”
“Me too,” he replied as Andrea knocked on the door and once summoned appeared with Steph’s tea.
After the door closed again she asked, “You still think I’m slutty Steph, don’t you?”
“I don’t know what I think. You confuse me, Stephanie,” he admitted. “I hated the way you were at Lindsay’s hen night and then at the wedding you were very different and on Monday, corporate Steph was another persona.”
“And which did you like?” she asked curiously.
“I know I have no moral high ground here and I probably sound like a dick, but I liked parts of them all and was hoping I could cultivate a blend.”
“I see.” She had no clue what else to say but felt excited that he had thought about it, about her but insulted that he wanted to cherry pick what he perceived to be her best bits.
“We can talk about it over dinner.”
The assumption that they were going to dinner and that the option of him cultivating his chosen blend of her best bits was beginning to get to her, to rile her. But wasn’t this what the premise of their relationship would allow? For him to get her preferred qualities and none of the crap. When they saw each other, met up, she would be happy, compliant and grateful for his time and attention. In return she wouldn’t have to listen to his moans and gripes. She wouldn’t be subjected to his annoying habits; leaving his dirty washing on the bathroom floor, clipping his toenails in the lounge, farting as they wandered around the supermarket or whatever his habits were. And sex, they would each get sex, strings free, uncomplicated sex. That was how this would work, wasn’t it?
“If you want to,” she replied petulantly.
“Don’t be all sulky about it. We’ll talk tonight. Think about what you want from our arrangement.”
“I haven’t said that there will be an arrangement yet,” she countered, making him smile.
“Yet? Such a small word and yet it carries so much potential,” he replied with arched brows before turning serious again. “I know this is unconventional . . .”
“And messing with my head,” she interrupted.
“Mine too, but please, let’s talk about it, over dinner and if you decide you don’t want it then I will back off and we’ll keep it strictly business, okay?”
“Okay,” she agreed with a pang of sorrow that he might back off.
Any earlier spinning of her head was nothing compared to the gyrating it was currently doing.
“Come on, drink your tea and I’ll take you down to H.R.”
Clearly this was his attempt at strictly business and although it was reassuring that he could do this it was also slightly alien without the undercurrent of their usual flirtation and banter, the ‘flanter’ as her youngest brother had once referred to it as.
“And walk in front, I really do like to watch your arse swinging and do not allow slutty Steph to put in an appearance today,” he ordered.
Okay, maybe he couldn’t do strictly professional.
Steph was sitting at her desk in the open plan legal department and felt slightly out of place. She really wasn’t a legal person. She was an accountant. She was working on some accounts on her laptop in an attempt to avoid the suspicious expressions of the legal eagles around her when the phone on her desk rang.
“Hello, Stephanie Pryor.”
“Hello, Stephanie Pryor, this is Jonathan Brooker and I was just sitting in my office thinking about you so thought I’d call to say hello and to ask how life is treating you in legal?” His question sounded filled with genuine interest.
“Then you need to take up a hobby or work harder,” she said, making him laugh. “Life in legal is quiet and I feel rather self-conscious sitting in the middle of it in an open plan office,” she whispered, making him laugh louder.
“Is that why you’re whispering?” he whispered back. “And I am looking at hobbies, but so far there is only one that I really fancy.”
“And what hobby would that be?” she asked still whispering, optimistically suspecting his likely answer.
“You, Stephanie. I can’t stop thinking about you after Monday night and all we did was kiss.”
“I seem to remember more than kissing, and in the car too,” she said with an air of shock at the potentially compromising positions they’d got into a couple of days before.
“I was trying to be discreet, but I didn’t hear you complaining, moaning, but no complaining.”
She laughed quietly, then remembering her earlier determination not to get involved with him she asked, “Don’t you have any work to do?”
“I have loads of work to do, yet I can’t think of anything other than you and Monday night, even if it did make me feel fifteen again; snogging and managing to get my hands on a girl’s tits and very beautiful they were too.”
With a sharp intake of breath at the realisation that this conversation, all of their conversations, just kept coming back to this, to them and their ‘arrangement’. “I think this type of conversation breeches several of your policies,” she said slightly louder now as she noticed that most people appeared to have gone for lunch.
“Once again, you are correct, Miss Pryor, so we will resume this conversation later. You will have to hurry if you are going to make it to your presentation on time,” he said which confused her.
“Me? Late? What presentation?” she almost screeched.
“You haven’t checked your emails, Miss Pryor,” he chastised but she could sense a smile too.
“Bollocks! I didn’t know I had an email address here,” she said, her voice reaching decibels she’d avoided all morning.
His laugh was deep and throaty. “Come up to my office and I will escort you to the presentation and fill you in on the way. And put your jacket on!”
“Why? Do you think it looks more professional with the jacket?”
“That’s one way to put it, but it also covers your amazing breasts!”
Whilst riding the lift back up to his floor, Steph was looking at her reflection in the full-length mirrored wall, pushing a couple of dark strands of hair that had escaped the ponytail she wore. Staring more closely, she looked into her own eyes, dark pools of brown and amber that looked brighter and more alive than they had for a very long time. She did think that the brown, sleeveless shift dress possibly did cling to all of her curves, especially her breasts and bottom. He had also been right that the jacket did go some way to make her breasts less obvious, but as it finished just at the hips it actually emphasised her bottom. She looked down at her legs and also decided that the dress was a little short for work with the five-inch brown, suede heels she’d opted for today and the remains of her spray tan just emphasised the fact that her legs were bare. She was still twirling around and checking out her image when the doors opened and Jon joined her in the lift.
“Hello Miss Pryor, nice ass,” he said as he pinned her against the glass wall.
“Jon!” she protested.
“Ssh.” He was like a predator soothing a startled animal before pouncing on his prey. “I like watching you checking yourself out.” He leaned down and kissed her, gently, then more firmly, forcing her lips apart to invade her mouth.
She eagerly welcomed him, reaching up to wrap her arms around him, her fingers ran through the hair at his neck. It was debatable who was hunting who now.
Pulling back he looked down at her with a smile. “You know I really would like to see what’s under this dress.” His hands were already beneath it, running up her bare legs until his fingers reached the now wet lacy barrier.
Her determination to keep things professional was currently blowing in the wind, the widening of her stance to allow him greater access to her confirming that.
“Oh darling, you really need to be fucked.” He lowered his mouth to her neck making her moan. “And I am the man to do that.”
The lift pinged as it reached the sixteenth floor. Stepping back, he made to straighten his already straight black tie that sat immaculately against his white shirt and black suit. As Steph smoothed her skirt down, Jon brushed the toe of his black, Italian leather shoes.
Cupping her elbow, he led her to a meeting room that was full of seated execs and most of the legal team that she thought had gone to lunch. Jon led her to a seat at the front and took to the podium himself.
“Ladies, gentlemen,” he said as an announcement that he was ready to start. “I’ll make this brief. As most of you know we are entering into a contract with Baker, Ross and Riley for legal services. Now I am aware that the jungle drums are working overtime with rumours of what that means for our own legal department, so that will clarified for you this afternoon. We have the good fortune to have the services of Stephanie Pryor of Baker, Ross and Riley who is the head of new business accounts there. She will be based here, in legal, all day Wednesday and some Friday afternoons to answer any questions and to clarify any queries. So without further ado, Miss Pryor,” he said, introducing her before vacating the podium.
She stared at him for a moment and realised that he hadn’t filled her in on the way down. He had kissed her and seemed more interested in just filling her rather than the gaps in her knowledge.
Hesitantly, she walked towards the podium and started to speak slowly.
“Hello, thank you Mr Brooker. I am indeed the head of new accounts at Baker, Ross and Riley, but I should explain that I am not a lawyer. I am an accountant but was heavily involved in putting together the original proposal for Brooker Incorporated and then in tailor making the contract. As I understand the position here, the current legal team will remain in place, but it would not be cost effective to run a legal team on the scale of Baker, Ross and Riley in-house which is why the contract for their services is now in place. It is my intention to email all senior members of the company, but first priority will be to legal, with an overview of who is responsible for which type of legal work. However, I have to admit that I haven’t even accessed my emails here yet, so I will start the process with the likely intervention of I.T. today and continue that job on Friday afternoon. I would anticipate that by this time next week everyone will have received that overview from me. Assuming you have a generic email system you will know my address better than me and if I miss anyone out please call, email or just stop me in a corridor and I will rectify the situation as soon as I can. I would expect that anyone with responsibility for other staff members will cascade the information down to their teams. I should stress again that I am not in any way legally trained, but I know where to find the right answers and I understand the way big companies are organised and operate, but in case you were wondering, I don’t file end of year personal tax returns for anyone other than my dad who apparently doesn’t get numbers.”
There was a general combination of laughs and giggles as she continued.
“I would finally like to say that I am very excited to be joining you all, if only on a temporary basis and I hope the fledgling union of Brooker Incorporated and Baker, Ross and Riley is prosperous and successful for us all.”
A flurry of applause ensued before Jon joined her at the podium and whispered, “Very impressive Miss Pryor, off the cuff too.”
He stood back at the podium ready to speak so she returned to her seat.
“If heads of department can meet me in my conference room at four o’clock I would be most grateful,” he said before gesturing that the meeting was over.
Jon summoned a tall, skinny, fair haired, younger man and introduced him to Steph.
“Tom, this is Miss Pryor and she is in need of your expertise so could you meet her in legal in about an hour and sort out email, internet, network and a company mobile phone please?”
Tom nodded at Steph. “An hour then, Miss Pryor.”
Jon was still talking to a group of people from legal as Steph headed towards the door in an attempt to find her way back to the legal department when he called after her to introduce her to some other people, senior managers before finally allowing her to find her way back to her desk, something she managed after getting lost just three times.
As her afternoon went on she decided that Jon had most likely told everyone to take care of her because she’d had coffee brought to her and even an invitation to the pub after work, an offer she’d politely declined. She sent some of her emails out and as she prepared to leave for the day a large, imposing, man of about forty dropped in.
“Hi, I’m Steven Cannon, Steve, Head of Legal and I just wanted to check in to say if you need anything or you have any problems with anything down here just call. My office is at the top end of the office, up the corner,” he said, pointing towards his door. “My P.A. Hannah, is next door to me and she is trying to get you some admin support for when you’re here.”
“Thank you.” She accepted the hand that he offered, the same hand that seemed to hold hers just a little too long before she picked up her bag and laptop case to make her exit.
She was on her way across the foyer of reception when her phone beeped. She pulled it out of her pocket and found a text message from Jon.
Dinner? Shall I pick you up at 7? Jon
I could meet you there if you tell me where. Steph
I will pick you up. Address? Jon
Even by text she could hear his irritation at her suggesting alternatives to his own ideas. Well he might just have to get used to it.
Tell me where, I’ll meet you. I’m not your mistress yet. Steph
Yet. There’s that magical little word again. The Waterfront. Half 7. Jon
Her triumphant smile was short lived as she realised that despite her reservations, objections and ongoing protests that she wouldn’t have an affair with him, her text seemed to be suggesting she would. She really wished there was someone she could talk to about this, someone who would give her good advice, unbiased advice. With Lindsay away on her honeymoon, there wasn’t anyone so she’d have to decide for herself. A heavy sigh sounded around her as she realised that she might have just made the worst plan ever with her inability to think beyond his handsome face and glorious aroma that had her libido overriding everything else where Jon was concerned.